Crackfic From Beta Hell: Losers Edition
by Alex Kade
Summary: Every bad Losers fanfic you have ever read combined into one giant vortex of funny! *Don't read at work...*


**A/N: **Aislinn (my beta and wonderful creator/cowriter for 'Ambush') insisted that I place a "spew warning" at the top of this thing. Soooo, I'd highly recommend you don't eat, drink, drive, or operate any sort power-tool or otherwise sharp object while reading this.

*note: All mistakes were either intentionally written or were genuine mistakes that I left in for the sake of keeping up the theme, lol. ;)

* * *

Corpral…Coroporal?...Corporal Jake Jensen, the best hacker on the face of the Earth and probably the universe because he's so good that he managed to hack into one of the Stargates on Planet Efron (no, _of course _the name has nothing to do with Zac…) so he could dial it home and save a group of otherwise doomed soldiers, bounded into the room with all the exuberance of a baby chipmunk weasel hopped up on suger-coated crack flakes.

"So, what'rewegonnadotonight?" he asked as he sat in a chair then hopped back out of it and ran around the table precisely 3.14 times before sitting back down again. "Oh wait, I know! The same thing we do every night, Pinky – take five hours plotting out a way to take down Max that'll use as many bullets and explosives and high-speed transportation of any sort, flying or driving, as humanly possible only to let him barely slip through our fingers in the end and ultimately result in about sixty-eleven bodies that we'll just ignore and hope they vaporize on their own, and somewhere in all that Clay will yell at me for hacking in my underwear!"

"Shut up Jensen!" Pooch, Aisha, Roque, and Clay all shouted.

The always quiet, brooding so much that the word "brooding" has actually officially been changed to "Cougaring," seized…ceased…his Cougaring so he could jump up and come to the aid of the man he secretly loved but knew he wasn't supposed to love and tried to hide it from everyone but they all secretly knew about it, anyway, except for Jensen who was the smartest, brightest, sexiest, but apparently most oblivious of them all.

"¡No acaricie el zapato gigante!" he shouted, and the effect of his voice mingling with the atoms in the normally Cougarless atmosphere created a shockwave big enough to set off car alarms three blocks down.

Roque put on his best scowly face and jumped up, pulling a knife from his belt, his back, his thigh, under his arm, and even Houdini'd one from Pooch's ear and held them all out in front of him like a crazy knife fan.

Pooch, always the reasonable one because he was the family man and knew how to handle these sorts of things, stood up and held his palms out. "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!...Whoa. Whoa now. Hold up. Hold on, here. Just calm the fuck down. We don't need anybody stabbing anyone today… In fact, Roque, why are you even here?"

Jensen interrupted the line of thought with a high-pitched giggle that shattered the shot glasses on the table (which is only being thrown in to awkwardly work in the fact that the Losers are all getting completely shit-faced).

Roque put down his knives and showed an emotion other than "scowl" for the first time in roughly twenty-nine years, four months, two weeks, and three days. His lip stuck out in a pout and tears began to glisten on his face. "You don't want me here?" he sniffle-whimpered.

"Hey!" Jensen suddenly, surprisingly, and totally unexpectedly blurted out to no one and everyone. "Is anyone gonna translate what Cougar said, or does everyone just magically speak Spanish around here?"

Everyone stares blankly at each other (except for Roque who has resorted to crying in a corner because alcohol magically makes his heart grow three times larger) and then at Cougar who shrugs because apparently he has forgotten how to speak any English words.

'Oh! Hold on!" Jensen shouts as he excitedly jumps up piggy-back style onto Cougar's back in his excitement, causing the gentle, mild-mannered, slightly shy, now only Spanish-speaking sniper sharpshooter to blow a load in his pants. "I'll just use my computer to tap into the GPS unit in Antonio Banderas's car! I can make it sound all 2001: A Space Odyssey and demand he translate for us!"

"Why doesn't anybody want me?" Roque cry-wail-screams.

Aisha stands up and walks over to him swaying her hips and smirking and winking and purring like a kitten, causing everyone _else _to blow a load (well, except for Pooch because he's the perfect husband and therefore only sees all women except for his wife as ugly three-headed toad-ogre-naked mole rats; and Roque because he's still emo-tastically trying to figure out why he doesn't belong in this picture). Her feminine wiles have no effect on Cougar whatsoever because despite the fact that those humans of the lady variety are constantly all over him and that he looks like he's thoroughly enjoying their company, everyone's going to overlook those details in favor of making him madly in love with a certain blond male hacker funny type, whose now wet pants pressing against Cougar's back have him going for round two.

Staring down at the pathetic Roque, Aisha puts her hands on her hips and gives him a good swift kick in the knee. "Fuck! Quit fucking crying fucking baby fucking tears and fucking get the fucking fuck up off the fucking floor. Fucking then, I fucking want your fuck-ass to fucking leave the fucking room."

Clay heaves out a sigh big enough to expel every last tiny molecule of oxygen from his lungs. "Roque, if Aisha's here mingling with us, then we're past the point where you go traitor so you can't be here. Sorry, that's just the way it is."

Roque stands up and nods his head, his scowly face returned full-force. "That's right," he snarl-snapped. "I'm gonna go find Max and tell him where all of you are so I can get my money because I'm a greedy bastard like that!"

And with that he stormed out of the room.

Much to Cougar's dismay and disappointment, Jensen jumped off his back and paced back and forth several times in thought, whipping out eight candy bars out of nowhere and consuming them all in a record 5.7293 seconds. "Why didn't he just kill us all, _then _go get Max?"

"Shut up Jensen!" everyone but Cougar yelled again.

This time Cougar pulled out his rifle and leveled it at all of them, whispering in a lethal, deadly, mortally wounding tone, "No puedo encontrar mi rallador del queso."

Jake licked his chocolate-covered fingers (which Cougar looked at longingly and licked his lips, adding round three to his already burdened pants) and dashed over to a previously unmentioned desk where sits a bright pink (because Jensen has to have at least one pink item to showcase the fact that one time he wore a pink shirt) laptop. He caresses it lovingly and whispers "Oh Marilyn Angelina Nicole Elizabeth Halle Monroe Jolie Kidman Hurley Berry, you're gonna work for Daddy now aren't you? You're gonna slip into Antonio's GPS like the naughty little girl you are and do Daddy a big favor, huh?"

As he spoke, the strangely erotic-speaking hacker ran his fingers up and down the screen before he he gripped it in both hands and planted his lips on the keyboard. Cougar's inner monologue (which was...is...was?...also only in Spanish) reveals something along the line of how he wished Marilyn Angelina Berry Kidman….whatever, was him instead of a computer. There went round four.

Aisha strolled up and slapped the laptop out of Jake's hands, sending it crashing to the floor. His eyes grew amazingly large like that cat in the Shrek movies and she _almost _melted under that tearful stare. Instead, she snapped out of the moment of weakness and snapped, "Fuck! Why the fuck are you so fucking weird? You fucking don't have to fuck your fucking computer every time we fucking need your fucking ass to hack a fucking GPS!"

A bellow of shear rage echoed right on over to the polar bears in the South Pole (do polar bears live in the South Pole, or is that North?) and Aisha found herself being tackled by the enraged, pissed-off, mad-as-fuck sniper sharpshooter in the hat (which has been sadly neglected up to this point so it needed to be recognized). She tried to fight her way out from under him but the weight of his pants was so heavy that there was nothing she could do.

Pooch and Clay ran over to try to pull Cougar off her, to which Pooch took great offense. He grabbed onto Clay's suit jacket coat thing. "Wait! Just wait. Wait a minute. Colonel! I said give me just a moment, here. You're trying to step on my turf. We all know it's _my _job to break up inner-team disputes. Now go sit back down while I handle this. Go. Sit. Right back over there. That's right."

Clay reluctantly did as told, pouting the entire way, while Pooch tried to pry the heavy Cougar off of Aisha. He had to settle for just rolling him off, inadvertently pushing him up against Jake who was busy mourning the loss of Elizabeth Nicole Monroe…whatever.

"Oh, mono pobre, podemos aplastar medusas juntas," Cougar whispered, reaching up a soothing hand to sooth his forbidden love soothingly.

Jake choked on a totally manly sob and looked at Cougar longingly (or so Cougar hoped with a fifth round) in the eyes. "With whatever-the-fuck I named her broken, I'll never be able to understand what you're saying again and the fangirls will _never _get their moment where you confess your undying love for me while I'm probably bleeding out on the floor of an Iraqi prison cell from a bullet wound to the upper chest/shoulder region that I earned for not being able to not say inappropriate things at the worst timing!"

"Finally!" everyone shouted (except Cougar who was just too utterly stunned that Jensen really _had _known this whole time to say anything. His joy brought on round six.)

Jensen and Cougar stared into each other's eyes for a long time where they got lost in a maze of wild roses and suger plums and images of Jake running towards Cougar in slow motion wearing tattered shipwreck clothing with his shirt hanging wide open revealing his smooth tanned chest and Cougar waiting with his arms wide open in an open field wearing a beautiful white lace dress and his long black hair flowing behind him in the wind. As Jensen finally reaches his long lost love he throws himself into the Spaniards arms, yanking back on the long black silky curly hair and whispering:

"It seems to me that we were meant to be much more than friends  
And all I want is you

Tell me that you want me  
Tell me that you need me here tonight  
Promise that you'll hold me  
'Cause I just wanna be with you for life"

And when Cougar looks at him quizzically in confusion Jensen tells him it's lyrics from "Tell Me That You Want Me" by Carte Blanche (because credits need to be given so copyright infringement laws don't wreak havoc on the hacker), and then Jake says "Just tell me, Cougar, tell me that you want me."

Cougar cups Jake's neck in his hand and growls, "Se estorba el retrete."

Jensen pulls back. "No," he utters in whispered sad and depressively shocked tones. "You can't even speak English in our fantasies? Oh god, whyyyyyyyyy?"

They hold each other and cry into each other's shoulders.

Meanwhile, twenty minutes of watching Jensen and Cougar stare like catatonic freaks into one another's eyes, Aisha finally gets fed up and storms out of the room. Clay and Pooch shrug and just wait for her to come back, which she does in a minute….or maybe it was a moment…carrying a Spanish/English dictionary. She throws it at Clay. "Here, fucking fix this fucking problem. I'd fucking translate for you fuckers myself but I think I fucking say fuck way too many fucking times and it's getting fucking confusing what I'm fucking saying."

Clay grins his bright, charming, little boy-like smile and opens up the book. "Jensen, Cougar, problem solved," he says, waving the book around.

Jensen and Cougar finally look away from each other and wait patiently while Clay looks up all of Cougar's words for the day.

"Standby," he says, "I have to scroll back up to the top because I don't remember everything Cougar said… Okay, here we go, in order:

'Don't caress the giant shoe!'

'I can't find my cheese grater.'

'Poor monkey, we can squish jellyfish together.'

….and….where was that last one? Oh, right, the fantasy words…"

"Hey," Jensen ask-inquires, "How'd you know what Cougar said in our dream?"

"Because it says it right there on the page," Clay shrugs and continues. "He said 'The toilet is hindered."

Jensen and Cougar look again into each other's eyes. "Those were the bravest, sexiest words anyone has ever said," Jensen smiles, tiny glistening tears of joy and rapture and lust trickling down his face like glittery unicorn piss pouring down the side of a waterfall.

Cougar went for round seven, which is a lucky number so it made Jensen finally notice what had been going on in those pants during this entire story and grinned mischeviosuly…mischieviously…misch…fuck it – he grinned like he had something naughty on his mind and stood up, hoisted Cougar over his shoulders with ease (because, dammit, he's a special ops-trained soldier and not just a geeky hacker so he's just as fit and ruthless and deadly and scary and mean and energetic and athletic and awesome as the rest of the guys on the team, except for maybe Aisha because she's just fucking batshit scary nuts), and slipped out of the room to his bedroom.

After a long pause, Pooch asks, "So, Clay, what're we doing tonight?"

And Clay smiles as says, "The same thing do every night. Think of a new, crazy, explosive-ridden, murdering, bloody plot to take down Max that will inevitably wind up with one or more of us getting grievously (spelled right the first time!) injured."

"Fuck yeah!" Aisha shouted and randomly shot a bullet into the ceiling just because there was a lack of Losers-like gunplay in this whole mess.

_**The End!**_


End file.
